


Not Today

by ellerean



Category: Free!
Genre: FWP, Fluff without Plot, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2015-08-18
Packaged: 2018-04-15 10:51:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4604001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellerean/pseuds/ellerean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even from five thousand miles away, Haruka Nanase continues to surprise Rin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Today

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to have a plot, and then I forgot.

Haru was no stranger to the Sydney Airport, a fact he reminded himself of several times. He stood outside the snaking line for customs, the other international passengers hustling past one another—as if an entire plane full of people weren’t hurrying to get into the country at once.

When he finally approached the customs officer, he anticipated the question: “What is the purpose of your visit?”

Haru had practiced his response: “Visiting a friend.”

He hadn’t expected the officer to be impressed with his English, but he didn’t smile at all as he stamped his passport with a _thwump_. “Welcome to Australia.”

It was easy to find a taxicab; he just followed the signs. Haru pushed his small suitcase into the backseat of the car and handed over the slip of paper bearing the address. The driver smiled and nodded, waiting for Haru to slam the backdoor closed before peeling onto the road.

“First time here?” the driver asked. Haru gripped the shoulder strap of his seatbelt with both hands.

“No,” he replied, a blush crawling up his cheeks.

The driver consulted the slip of paper, which he held between two fingers as he steered. “English isn’t your first language, is it? Don’t worry about it. I talk to a lot of foreigners.”

Haru knitted his brows, mentally translating what he could piece together. He shook his head, hoping it was the right response. “I am Japanese.” He thought that must be obvious.

When they pulled in front of the building, he didn’t get out right away. The driver didn’t urge him, either, but Haru was aware that the meter was still running. He handed over his credit card, unsure what he was even paying for the trip, and pulled his suitcase out of the backseat. “Welcome to Australia!” the driver said, sounding much more welcoming than the customs offer.

“ _Arigatou_ ,” he replied, then added in English, “Thank you very much.” He offered a little bow, and the driver smiled wider before he disappeared down the street.

The building wasn’t much, which surprised him. Red brick, four-story; some windows had planters with flowers spilling over them. He wondered if one was Rin's. Haru clutched the suitcase handle like it would escape, or like one of the many passersby would take it. A girl sidestepped around him, ponytail bobbing as she jogged up the five stairs to the front door. Haru took the opportunity to follow, and she smiled broadly as she held the door open for him. His suitcase clomped up each of the metal stairs.

“Thank you,” he replied, and he understood her “You’re welcome!” He stood in the lobby as she disappeared up the stairs.

The interior was nice, if a little run-down. It felt more like a hotel than an apartment building, with white walls and light blue carpeting. There was a framed print of the Sydney opera house by the door, like its residents didn’t see the building every single day.

Haru made his way toward the elevator, waited impatiently, and then rolled his suitcase behind him as he stepped in.

The fourth floor looked similar to the lobby, though the carpeting was slightly newer. It sank under his feet as he slowly walked down the hall, scanning the numbers on the small brass plaques affixed to the doors. They all looked the same, bare of decoration, but when he stood before 413 it felt different than the others.

He considered for a moment that he won’t be home. But the prospect was impossible—not when Haru was standing _right there_. A last-minute plane ticket, a ten-hour flight, unplanned. Unannounced.

Haru pressed his hand to the door, smirking as he covered the peephole. He breathed in deep before firmly knocking thrice.

“Yo, give me a sec!”

He didn’t understand Rin’s English, and it took a moment to understand why he spoke the language at all—that was what he _spoke_  there, talking to his friends and his coaches, his name in foreign letters on applications and results boards. Haru studied the carpet at his feet, curling his toes in his sneakers. He heard the dull thud of footsteps on the other side of the door.

“What the hell?” Rin grumbled, mere steps away, and Haru flattened his hand against the peephole. “You’re a riot, Jax,” he said, and swung the door open.

Rin dropped his hand, staring at him open-mouthed.

He wore a pair of grey sweats and a black muscle shirt, an outfit Haru had seen many times before over video chat. His hair was partially combed back, damp with a recent shower, and his feet bare. The longer he stood in the doorway, silent and staring, the pinker his cheeks grew. He was frozen save for his eyes, which tried to take in all of Haru at once— _Haru_ , standing at his doorstep—in his blue hoodie, slightly too warm for the weather, and the hint of a smile.

“Hi, Rin.”

Haru stepped across the threshold, arms extended to wrap around Rin’s waist. He kicked the door closed as Rin pressed his face to the crook of his neck. _“Haru.”_ He shook with silent laughter, squeezing tight around his shoulders. “Haru!” He stood upright, then gently cupped Haru’s cheeks.

“Surprise,” Haru whispered.

Rin lightly traced his cheeks with his fingertips, then brushed the corners of his lips. Haru’s eyes fluttered closed when their lips touched, easing the tension of the months apart, negating every night they fell asleep during a chat, every sorrow-stricken email, every text message wishing the other could be there to experience life beside him.

Rin pulled back with a laugh, a tear threatening to spill from the corner of his eye. He pressed a kiss to the bridge of Haru’s nose. “You left your suitcase outside.”

 

* * *

 

Rin’s living room walls were decorated with framed photographs—Rin with Australian swimmers, or with his friends. Haru didn’t fail to notice the group shot from high school, hanging near the doorway and inescapable when facing the door. There was a flower box in the window, bursting with violet and yellow flowers.

But Haru hadn’t looked too closely at the decorations, not when he sat on the couch with his legs tucked up beneath him. He held a glass of water in both hands.

“I don’t believe you’re here!” Rin was starting to repeat himself. “Haru! You’re here!”

He stared at Rin’s face like he’d forget what it looked like, like they didn’t video chat weekly. But he looked clearer, unobstructed by time and distance. And slightly bulkier, too, his shoulders and his arms stronger.

Haru set the glass of water on a side table and collapsed into those arms.

Rin stopped talking at once, one arm around his shoulders as he combed Haru’s hair with his fingers. Rin _was_ stronger; he could feel it in his embrace and against the cheek he pressed to his chest. And he smelled good, an undercurrent of his musky aftershave and clean linens.

“You’re here,” Rin murmured, resting his lips atop Haru’s head.

Haru sat up suddenly, his head narrowly missing the underside of Rin’s chin. “Show me Australia,” he said, holding onto Rin's hands.

Rin smirked. “Again?”

 

* * *

 

Haru didn’t care about the popular spots. He didn’t care to see the beach or the aquarium—they’d seen those last time—nor was he particularly interested in the local fare and its distinct lack of mackerel.

Rin showed him the pool where he often practiced. He showed him the gym where he worked out. He showed him his favorite lunch spots, and the square where he’d sit to eat when it was warm outside. They rode the train so Haru knew how he traveled, and where he traveled to. They went to the sporting goods store where Rin bought all his clothes.

“You need some new clothes yourself,” Rin said, squeezing Haru’s biceps. He said nothing as Rin rummaged through the clearance rack, selecting shirts that were too outrageous for Haru’s taste. He bought some of them, anyway, knowing he would enjoy them more back home—because they were from Australia, and because Rin had selected them. He left the store wearing a red tank top, the V-neck cut lower than he was used to, his shoulders and chest exposed to the warming sunshine.

 

They bought lunch at a food truck and found a small park to eat, sitting on the bench so close that their thighs touched. Rin would stop eating just to watch Haru take small bites of his cheeseburger. Rather than complain about his staring, Haru stole one of Rin’s french fries.

Rin looked around, ensuring no one was watching, and then pecked his cheek with greasy lips.

Haru’s skin tingled, and he resisted wiping the hamburger grease off. Rin slung an arm around the back of the bench, slightly turned to face him. He kissed his cheek again, his lips lingering. Rin lightly traced the seam of his jeans, dancing down his outer thigh, and it tickled when he reached Haru's knee.

 

“Haru,” he whispered, leaning in closer, “I missed—”

“Don’t.”

He sat up straight, frowning, his hand slipping off Haru’s leg. “What?”

Haru grasped his hand and threaded their fingers together. “It’ll be harder to leave.”

They continued to eat, one-handed, the ketchup and shredded lettuce spilling from their hamburger buns. Haru frowned when Rin tried to feed him a french fry; he prodded the fry against his closed lips. He ultimately relented and Rin's fingers lingered as he chewed, lightly brushing Haru’s lower lip.

“Let’s go back,” Haru said, rising from the bench, balancing the paper tray with its half-eaten meal.

“Huh?” Rin hastily stood, and shredded lettuce cascaded from his lap. “Why now?”

Haru pushed another french fry into his mouth, chewed slowly, and stared unblinking as he swallowed. “I want to make out.”

 

* * *

 

The ten-hour flight was justified. Sitting on the couch, feeling the pulse of Rin’s heart and his soft sighs as they kissed. Haru wrapped one leg around him, the other dangling off the couch. Rin held him carefully, hands rested on his hips, like he still doubted he was permitted to touch Haru. Like he hadn’t been touching him for years without permission at all, and didn't know what to do now that Haru _wanted_ him to.

Haru pressed closer, still getting used to the exposure of his chest from wearing a tank top. He _liked_ the shirt, despite his initial reservations; he could feel Rin’s skin before removing their clothes. Rin finally wrapped his arms around Haru’s back, slipping his fingers beneath the hem of his shirt.

It wouldn’t be a long trip. Haru had only a few days before he’d return to Tokyo, to his own training and swimming. He hadn’t mentioned how long he would stay, nor would he offer a straight answer. _Not today_ , he’d reply, if Rin had asked. But now, Rin was pulling at the hem of his new shirt to slip it up and over his head. There was a brief moment they weren’t kissing as the shirt was tossed aside, and then Haru pulled him back in by the straps of his shirt. Their teeth collided, Rin’s nipping at Haru’s lip, before locking together again. Rin wrapped his legs around his hips, hands splayed across Haru’s naked back.

Rin panted when they broke away, gasping for breath, leaning their foreheads together. Haru felt every exhalation, warm on his mouth, and he smiled. He leaned in, feeling the upward curve of Rin’s lips as they kissed again. He tugged on Rin’s shirt, but it was Rin who backed up to peel it off, and Haru simply watched as his body was exposed. Haru trailed his fingers over his abs and pressed his lips to the side of Rin’s neck.

It wasn’t yet dark out. But Rin was standing up, grasping both Haru’s hands to urge him off the couch. Then he was walking backward, and Haru realized he hadn’t been granted the live, in-person tour of the apartment. But Haru knew it from virtual tours—how they were crossing the living room, passing by the window that overlooked the street. Then there was the door to the bathroom, and the small linen closet beside it. Rin turned around to lead, holding one of Haru’s hands behind his back. They passed the framed print of Iwatobi’s beach, one that Haru had sent him when visiting home. He didn’t have time to admire it before he was tugged into the bedroom.

Rin let go and pushed his hands into his pockets, the momentum fading as he glanced around the room. “Is this okay?” he asked, sitting at the foot of the bed. The room was small, barely large enough for the double bed; it didn’t look like his closet door could open all the way without butting up against it.

Haru lifted an eyebrow. “We’ve shared a bed before.”

“Not like this!”

The small window over the bed was open, though it looked out to the brick exterior of the building next door. But there was a slight breeze, which Haru thought must be nice at night. He sat beside Rin, clasping his hand in the space between them. Haru stared at their intertwined fingers, the mild amazement that they were touching. Rin’s palm was both cool and clammy; Haru squeezed it, as if confirming that was truly his hand holding onto Rin’s. He felt a slight pressure in response.

“I’m here for you,” Haru said. “I won’t be apart from you.”

“Hey.” Haru looked up to meet Rin's eyes. “When are you going home, anyway?”

Haru slid back onto the bed, pulling Rin with him, and they tumbled to the mattress to lie side by side. He tucked a strand of Rin’s hair behind his ear, then kissed his jaw. He kissed Rin’s chin, his lips, the tip of his nose. He shimmied closer, bodies flush and legs intertwined. “Not today.”

**Author's Note:**

> ([Here](http://letsswimtogethernanase.tumblr.com/post/127015223248) on tumblr.)


End file.
